Eternity (25 page)

I fell forward, my knees, chest and face hitting the bloodied dirt with impact enough to leave bruises. Shaking, weak, I pushed myself up only to collapse.

The fire was snuffed out and I was consumed by the darkness.

It was humid and hot even without the fire, leaving me struggling for air.

A cloak landed on top of me, suffocating me further. I shrugged it off as best I could.

Then, just before I heard the sound of their wings lifting them away, I felt something drop beside me. Opening my eyes, I found it was the machete.

It was quieter now. No fire or mocking laughter and I could hear the bombs exploding in the distance, like firecrackers but with a deep resonance. Smaller cracking followed…which I knew could only be artillery fire.

The Battle of Gettysburg was raging in the midst of the forest and fields. Little did anyone of them know that another battle…of another kind…was being waged alongside them.

I lay in the dirt for what seemed to be a very long time, allowing my muscles to heal, wondering why the Fallen Ones hadn’t taken my life as they had with all other messengers, wondering what Abaddon meant when he threatened the grand finale.

At some point, I attempted to stand and learned that…somehow…I had enough strength. Wobbling and with intense effort, I picked myself up and pulled the cloak over me.

I was losing too much blood. The chill in me told me so.

Pulling the hood over my head, I stumbled across the clearing, moving towards the flashes of light in the distance.

A battlefield would be safer than staying here.

Unfortunately, I didn’t make it to the edge of the clearing before I found someone standing just beyond the outskirts.

They were playing with me. Allowing me the hope of escape only to return and finish me off.

In my daze, I couldn’t identify which one had been chosen to kill me. My view had become distorted and this was a danger. I couldn’t fight well without sight.

Blinking, I lifted the machete and prepared myself for what was to come.

My enemy had his weapon drawn but he didn’t seem to be paying attention to mine. He was focused on the scene behind me…Campion’s body and my dissected wings.

I imagined it was smiling, enjoying the sight of Eran’s first lieutenant dead and his ward dismembered.

Then it released a roar so loud that I was momentarily deafened and it came at me with such force I didn’t have time to react.

I didn’t feel the blade cut through my neck. I didn’t feel the moment my head was severed. I didn’t feel any pain at all…any longer.

I was now outside my body, watching as my head spun into the air and dropped to the ground with a dull thump. It rolled across the leaves to land next to Campion while the remainder of my body fell to my knees, the cloak falling away to expose the gashes where my wings had once been.

My attacker stopped a few feet away but didn’t move.

It appeared to be evaluating what it was seeing.

Then it ran towards Campion, haphazardly, without any sign of the poise it had used to attack me moments earlier.

Its cloak slide off its shoulders, left behind in its haste.

That was when I saw the wings.

They were stark white.

The face of the person who had just beheaded me came in to my view then.

It was distorted in to intense anguish.

If I hadn’t known the contours of that face so well, I wouldn’t have recognized it.

It was Eran and he had just realized that he had beheaded his eternal love.

Gripping my freed head in his hands, he lifted it to the air, tilted his chin back and released a tormented bellow that shook the earth.

Seconds later, from every direction, winged beings landed around the outskirts of the clearing.

Abaddon and his squad had returned.

Eran didn’t react immediately. Quietly, tenderly, he laid my head on the ground next to Campion.

They watched attentively, not wanting to miss a single detail.

Eran stood slowly, almost clumsily, his heart in despair.

From where I stood, I was alarmed that his soul had been broken.

Then he bent and picked up his sword, giving me some hope.

Leaving it limp in his hand and resting against his leg, he addressed Abaddon. “You made me think she was one of you,” he deduced, his voice no higher than a whisper.

“Clever game, wouldn’t you say?” said Abaddon, teasing while still leaving his guard up.

Eran simply sighed.

Knowing he would need to provoke a brawl, need to resurrect the fighter in Eran, Abaddon persisted. “We considered ending her life all together. It would have been rather easy, actually. With your first lieutenant dead and you off doing your reconnaissance of us, she was left quite unprotected. But then we realized…mutually…that she’ll return to earth again. This time…her death was simply for play. Next time…it’ll be forever.” He drew in a lazy breath and lifted his shoulders in a careless shrug. “It would have been more responsible to have simply killed her, yes. Thereby erasing any possibility of her taking our lives in the future…We just couldn’t resist ourselves.” He paused to snicker at Eran. “We’d just never seen a guardian take the life of their own ward before. It was just too…enticing to resist.” Realizing he was not getting the response he wanted, Abaddon stepped closer to Eran then and landed a final blow. “Tell me…how did it feel to take the life of the one you are meant to protect?”

Those words conjured motivation in Eran again and he became a blur of motion, pausing only long enough to ensure his sword made a mortal blow before continuing on to his next victim.

The Fallen Ones, too, jolted in to motion, attacking Eran from all directions.

Even with the number of warriors on their side, they were no match.

One by one they fell, their own dismembered bodies collapsing as mine had.

In the end, only Eran was left. The bodies littering the ground didn’t include Abaddon, Sarai, Achan, or Elam.

They had escaped, abandoning their comrades to their own fight.

Eran stopped in the middle of the clearing, his feet dangling, his wings barely pumping, his chest heaving from his efforts, as he seethed with astonishing fury. The sword he held was now hanging at his side, blood layered over it and dripping steadily from its end.

Clear that no one else remained, he slowly turned towards the remains of me and Campion.

“If you can hear me, Magdalene, I will avenge your death,” he said firmly, with absolute dedication to his words. “For as long as this body breathes, until we are united again, for the rest of this life…I will hunt and destroy the Fallen Ones. Every…last…one.”

With that promise lingering in the air, Eran collected the bodies of his first lieutenant and his eternal love and shot through the trees to disappear into the night sky.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: ATTACK

Awakening the next morning in my bed in New Orleans made me appreciate life more than I ever had before. The morning sunlight filtered in through the windows of my French doors and spilled across floor, the birds chirped outside, the smell of bacon rose up from the kitchen below. Most precious of all, I was going to open my eyes to Eran.

It turned out that Campion was the one slouched in my chair instead.

He pushed himself to a sitting position and yawned loudly. “What time is it?”

I was already looking wearily at my French doors, which remained closed and locked. “Morning,” I said. “And Eran’s not back.”

That made Campion perk up. He made three quick steps to the doors and swung them open, scanning the sky. I was at his side seconds later.

“This-This is the first time he hasn’t come back,” I said, trying to shove back the uncomfortable worries now nagging my consciousness.

My worry grew when Campion didn’t reply. That, I knew, meant he had the same level of concern.

“Germany,” I stated. “He said he was going to Germany.”

“Yes, he had a meeting.”

“A meeting?” My head snapped in his direction. “What meeting? With who?”

“Magnus…he’s an Alterum who has been feeding Eran information.”

“All right. What do we know about Magnus?”

Campion drew in a deep breath. “Not much I’m afraid…He has been one of the guards at the prison-”

My eyebrows rose. “The one holding the Fallen Ones…the Elsics captive?”

“Is there any other one?”

“Good point,” I said.

“Magnus keeps in contact with the guards currently at the prison. He stays connected to others too, others who know things about the Fallen Ones. He’s older, living the rest of his years in Berlin. He-There he is!”

Briefly I thought Campion, who had suddenly pointed to the sky, was referring to Magnus. But it wasn’t an elderly Alterum coming through the clouds…it was Eran.

He was flying briskly, with a sense of urgency, and landed with the same intensity.

Breathless in his hurry to return, he apologized, “My meeting ran late.”

“Did you learn anything?” Campion asked, without any sign of relief. Apparently, he overcame his worries quickly.

I didn’t recover as easily.

“You terrified us,” I snapped.

Eran glanced at me in insulted surprise. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be,” I said, drawing in a deep breath and finally relaxing.

Eran fought back a chuckle at my expense, clearly enjoying my public display of love. He chose to ignore me and let me settle down while he answered Campion.

“Magnus hasn’t heard from the guards at the prison and that is suspicious. We’re meeting tonight to discuss what should be done.”

The three of us stood in silence, ill at ease with the news and the prospect of what news Magnus might bring back.

It was Eran who got us moving. “Campion, we’ll meet you in the kitchen. Magdalene, get ready for school.”

Campion did as he was instructed and I entered my room to pull clothes from my closet.

Eran paused at the door and cleared his throat. “I understand Ezra’s rule about keeping the door open when a male is in your room, and personally I agree with it. But on this occasion I’m going to have to break her rule.”

“Why?” I asked casually, dropping my clothes selection on the wingback chair.

“I don’t want you alone in a room today.”

“Well, I’m headed for the bathroom where I’ll be taking a shower…”

“I won’t peek,” he replied politely.

“But if Ezra catches you…”

Eran smiled lightly at my teasing. “It’s a chance I’ll take.”

True to his word, Eran stood at the door, his back to me the entire time. It must have been incredibly humbling considering that we were actually husband and wife. I wondered if Ezra knew that we’d been bound by marriage in our previous life whether she’d consider lifting her no-males-in-the-room-without-door-open rule. I suspected so but Eran, who knew we were married before, had never mentioned it to her. I wondered how he felt about it and decided to ask the moment we were alone and the shower wasn’t thundering around my ears. I wanted to hear his answer clearly.

I showered in record time this morning. In fact, my mind was so concentrated on Eran and the remembrance of my life in Gettysburg that I didn’t realize I’d forgotten to condition my hair until I’d stepped out of the shower and already blown it dry.

When Eran and I left the bathroom, the hallway was clear but there was one last hurdle to overcome in avoiding Ezra. My change of clothes was still in my room so I would need to dress there.

Eran apparently already took this factor in to consideration because he followed me into my room, closed the door, and faced it, just as he’d done in the bathroom.

This time, I didn’t rush.

Eran stood stiffly in place though I couldn’t tell if he was at all provoked. His breathing seemed to be even paced…

“I’ve been through my past lives,” I announced, slowly unfolding my clothes.

“I see,” he replied plainly.

“Including the one in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania…”

I didn’t think it was possible but Eran stiffened further. “Which means you saw the end of your life…there.”

This wasn’t the direction I wanted the conversation to take.

“Yes, I also saw-”

“Then you saw what they did…what I…” He swallowed. “What I did.”

“Eran,” I stopped with my t-shirt nearly over my head and dropped it to my side. “I saw it and it wasn’t your fault. You were…it was a deception. You were deceived. I was deceived. And now it’s over.”

“It’ll never be over,” he said quietly. “Not until they all suffer eternal death.” He started to turn around, impulsively driven by the need to face me and show his sincerity, but realized what he was doing and turned back. “I made that promise to you, Magdalene. I
will
keep it.”

“I’m not concerned about it,” I said, noticing a muscle quiver beneath his taut t-shirt. He was growing angrier. Before he could go on, I changed the subject. “I also saw our wedding.”

That did the trick. His breathing froze.

“Your proposal in the sky,” I continued, “our ceremony outside the cabin you built…our wedding night…”

He drew in a shallow breath then and I knew his emotions were changing from anger to another type of physical response…lust.

I pulled my shirt over my head feeling slightly awkward about covering up while mentioning about a time when I had been uncovered in his presence. A single look at him made me overcome that way of thinking.

His broad shoulders were squared, his feet apart, his powerful hands hanging down his lean, lithe body. He was glorious.

“You touched me so lovingly…”

His hands clenched into fists and I guessed he was trying to quell the emotions running through him.

“The way your fingers…your lips…ran across my body…”

He drew in a slow, struggled breath and released it quickly.

“You captivated me…”

His jaw clenched tight and the muscles in his neck flexed.

“If we are still husband and wife, why won’t you touch me like that again?”

He released a groan, one of pent up passion, spun around, and marched towards me. Two quick steps and he was in front of me, taking me in his arms. His kiss came down soft but commanding. I met him with the same enthusiasm, arching my body against his, grabbing his shirt and pulling me to him. He moaned. We pressed closer. It lasted another second, far too short, when a knock came at my door.